


Head Over Heels

by ffonippop



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Confrontations, Declarations Of Love, Denial of Feelings, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Fear of love, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Bad at Feelings, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Love run, Lyric fic, M/M, Repressed Emotions, Soft Boys, Soft Geralt of Rivia, Songfic, The Amazing Devil, affection is freely given because im soft, because i am made of art and love and i want them to be in love, except its literal, fear of emotions, geralt is not mean!!!!!!, geralt of rivia runs away from his emotions, i guess??, im a track girl and i miss running this quarantine sucks, im sorry he runs so much, its a lot like the 5 stages of grief except make it lovey dovey, its more fluff with an undercurrent of angst more than anything, jaskier is musical and artistic and i love him for that, jaskier is soft, love run by the amazing devil, ok now my tags are gonna go feral ok, soft angst, theyre tender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:02:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24119227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffonippop/pseuds/ffonippop
Summary: Throughout all his life, Geralt has been running. From monsters, from men, from magic.Love will be no different.OR:Geralt realizes he's in love with Jaskier, and he does what he knows best: run away.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 11
Kudos: 216





	Head Over Heels

**Author's Note:**

> hxhsggxs me, a track girl who fears confronting her feelings above all else: me? projecting? into my fics? i would never do such a thing!
> 
> gsgxgsgx i worked hard pls enjoy thank u ily 👉👈
> 
> -alyssa

Throughout all his life, Geralt has been running.

Usually the running is more of a figurative thing, a metaphor that consists of too many commas and too little clarity, a race that only happens in his head. But as the balls of his feet hit the cold, hard ground and his calves begin to ache with every step, Geralt knows that this running is far from just something in his mind, this running is _literal_. 

He runs until cold wind feels hot against warm skin, until the air is stolen from him by the exhaustion, and he runs even more after that. He runs and runs and runs away, and as the sound of his footsteps become the only sound he can hear, Geralt lets himself think. 

He thinks as he runs, because the only thing that can distract him from the pain in his legs and the burn of his lungs is his mind.

Geralt runs and he thinks and suddenly, without stopping, he thinks himself back to yesterday. 

* * *

Jaskier strums his lute idly as he walks.

The sun is young in the sky, but she burns sweet and hot, lighting up the world and, perhaps more importantly, lighting up Jaskier. The sky is devoid of clouds, but the breeze is steady and cool, keeping the Witcher and the bard far from any discomfort the sun's heat might create. 

Jaskier, walking alongside Roach, has an insufferably contagious grin on his freckled face, and he has had it there for twenty long years, but even as Geralt grows more and more used to the grin with every gaze to the bard, Geralt finds he never really tires of seeing it. 

It's a sweet thing, really, looking at Jaskier's face and seeing the same smile that has been there for two decades. It's a sweet thing, finding familiarity in Jaskier's expressions, because few things are permanent in The Path.

But from atop Roach, Geralt wonders playfully to himself if Jaskier's face was ever going to split open from that wide smile he always brandishes. It's a _wonder_ he hasn't got any smile wrinkles yet, if Geralt is honest. 

The next town is fast approaching with every step they take, and it's like Jaskier _senses_ that the opportunity to play to an actual crowd is near because there's a dance in his step and a twinkle in his eyes as he tunes his lute, humming happily. 

(Geralt knows Jaskier doesn't like tuning his lute, but that's only because Jaskier mentions it so much.)

(Jaskier has mentioned it twice.) 

Another experimental strum of the strings creates an unpleasant sound and Jaskier fakes a gag to nothing in particular, just expressing his distaste for the discordant notes he had summoned to anything that might take notice.

Geralt almost laughs then, amused that Jaskier looks almost puppy-like in an irritatingly adorable way when he's distressed by the disagreeing melody, and Jaskier notices the sides of his lips quirk up because Jaskier notices _everything_ , ever the observant little songbird.

The bard seems amused, but just for shits and giggles, he rolls his eyes, glares playfully at Geralt, and begins to play the beginning of _Toss A Coin_ as retribution.

Geralt groans before the honey-haired bard even plucks the fourth string, too familiar with the melody to ever forget how it went. Jaskier only chuckles.

"That'll teach you not to make fun of my sorrows," the bard teases lightheartedly, and something soft and warm settles in Geralt's chest at the harmless threat. 

He huffs a laugh.

"You can't blame me for smiling," he replies in gruff baritone, eyeing Jaskier with a little more attention than he gives his surroundings, golden eyes clearly entertained. 

Jaskier smirks up at him, fingers brushing over strings but not quite playing them, as if Geralt was more important than music itself. There's a mischievous sort of look in blue eyes that reflect the sky, and Jaskier laughs— a sound so musical it belonged in a choir.

"What are you implying, dear heart?" Jaskier purrs, arching an eyebrow perfectly and flashing his teeth in a sharp grin. "Is my face worth _smiling_ for?"

 _Yes,_ Geralt thinks, and he almost says it. _Yes. You're worth... so much._

If thoughts could sound breathless, Geralt's sure did.

He bites his tongue and forces himself to look forward, away from Jaskier's knowing eyes. It's silent for a while, and Geralt knows Jaskier awaits an answer. 

He sighs with annoyance that is quite clearly faked, turns on the saddle to look at Jaskier, and, deadpan, he answers, "Your face deserves a punch, that's what. Might keep you humble."

The infuriatingly charming bard only widens his smile, and Geralt thinks that the day has finally come where Jaskier's face splits, but Geralt is peeved to find it is his _own_ face that hurts when they subconsciously mimic the bard's contagious smile. He tries to drop it to no avail. 

Jaskier strums his lute again to test the chords, and he hums pleasantly when they sound right to him. Without another word, he begins to play, and, like always, Geralt likes the melody he creates out of thin air. 

The Witcher turns his gaze to Jaskier for a moment, sparing the path from his eyes, and he smiles at the sight of the bard at ease and strumming carelessly at his lute.

But he realizes he is smiling and it's odder than he'd expected, knowing Jaskier could make him grin just by existing. He thinks back to Jaskier's question and his aborted reply, when Jaskier had asked him if he was worth smiling at.

Geralt stares at the bard and hums to himself.

Worth smiling for. Worth dying for. Worth living for. Worth sacrificing for. That's what Jaskier was: worth it. 

Slowly, Jaskier's lips part and he begins to sing, his voice mixing in with the tender tune the lute has created. He parts his lips, and _music_ comes out, haunting and beautiful.

_"O let the world come at you, love."_

Geralt hears his heartbeat join in, and he worries it will ruin the song, but he shoves that worry away and listens to the lyrics he hadn't heard before. Jaskier's voice tugs the sides of his lips upwards in a way that only Jaskier's voice can. 

_"Like distant toms a-drumming."_

Adoration fills Geralt's body and there's warmth at the sight of Jaskier's eyes fluttering shut, getting lost in both the moment and the song. He feels his grip loosen on Roach's reigns, and he feels his shoulders relax, almost involuntarily.

The Witcher feels fierce protectiveness for the contentedly singing Jaskier, and he feels his heart beat even harder, until it's banging at his rib cage, begging to be let out. 

He feels and feels and feels until he identifies what he is feeling and he feels his heart stop beating, because it's dropped to his stomach. 

_"Love, run. A song you know's begun!"_

Oh. 

Oh, dear _gods._

He's in love with Jaskier.

And the thought absolutely _terrifies_ him. 

* * *

He's sipping ale from the bar, ignoring the curious look of the barmaid in favor of watching Jaskier unpack his lute from the case. They'd made it to the town, and the Inn, and the tavern, and Jaskier is getting ready to perform. 

"I might take longer than usual," Jaskier says, looking at Geralt with a calm and collected expression. "You can head to the Inn if you get tired of my singing. I'll meet you there." 

The smile Jaskier gives him feels different now. Now that he knows he's in love.

Nevertheless, Geralt replies the way he usually would, convinced that if he just continues to ignore the fact he's in love, the feeling might go away. 

(It won't.)

(He knows.)

(He tries anyway.)

"I'll keep that in mind," Geralt hums.

Jaskier raises an eyebrow at the answer, purses his lips, and places the hand not holding his lute to his hips, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Why are you frowning for?" The bard asks suddenly, expression beginning to pinch into one of worry and concern. "Thought you'd be more happy knowing you get a free pass from watching me perform." 

Geralt's frown deepens. He furrows his brows and opens his mouth.

"I like seeing you sing," Geralt protested.

Jaskier raises the eyebrow even higher, and a skeptical look flashes over his eyes.

"You do?" There's a pleased and charmed sort of tone to his sentence, and Geralt decides in that moment he likes it when Jaskier is pleased.

Geralt hums as he drinks his ale, throat suddenly parched at the sight of the bard. "You look alive," he explains truthfully. 

"As opposed to any other time?" Jaskier snorts, rolling his eyes playfully as he smirks at Geralt and tilts his head which exposes more of his neck. "I look dead when I don't sing?"

Geralt swallows. "You know that's not what I meant."

Jaskier's expression softens and he nods, kind and delicate smile gracing his lips as a gentle, adoring hand finds itself on Geralt's cheek, thumb just next to his lips. 

Geralt would have liked to lean into the touch.

(He doesn't.)

(He thinks it's unfair to Jaskier, who doesn't know how such sweet touches affect him.)

(He also fears that if he does, Jaskier would just take it away.)

"I know, love," Jaskier sighs sweetly, and he was off again, turning and walking gracefully away to his stage, to his people, to his audience. Away from Geralt. 

Geralt's heart beats softly as the Witcher watches Jaskier go, lute in hand, steps confidently and daintily onto a table, and commands the entire tavern to his will, singing songs that fit perfectly in his throat and strumming artfully on his lute.

Part of Geralt misses the warm touch on his cheek and part of him is glad Jaskier took it away, for fear he'd get too attached to the touch and never want to let Jaskier go. 

The night goes on with Geralt's conflicted emotions playing a deadly game in his gut, and as the evening grows old, Jaskier switches his lively strumming to play the song he had played in the morning, bringing the crowd down from it's high, forcing everyone to sit still and listen now. 

Jaskier plays the notes and joins in seamlessly with his voice. 

_"O let the earth a-tumble, love."_

Under the orange light of the lanterns around the tavern, Jaskier looks simply angelic, like a songbird trapped in clear and golden amber, or a flower under an Autumn sunset. Geralt's breath hitches in his throat as he watches Jaskier play with delicate hands and a kind voice.

_"And humble you withal."_

Geralt focuses in on Jaskier's lips, soft and pink and sweetly parted as he sings. There's an erratic banging in his chest, and his head feels both light and heavy at the same time. Jaskier continues to sing, and Geralt continues to ogle from the bar, straining his ears so as to not miss a single word.

_"Keep running. It’s up to you now."_

Geralt downs his last tankard of ale and stands up, keeping quiet so as not to disturb the tender atmosphere Jaskier had created with his voice. He makes his way to the door, and it creaks open as he moves out. 

_"Up to you now, love, to—"_

Geralt slips into the night and walks back to the Inn alone. There's only one thought that echoes repeats in his head as he imagines Jaskier, as he feels the gravel crunch under his feet, and it's terrifying. 

The thought is _"I love him."_

(Geralt enters his room, and he stops thinking at all.)

(Except he never really does.)

* * *

Jaskier tumbles into the Inn some time after Geralt does.

He tiptoes around Geralt's bed, mutters a curse when he hits his foot on something, and heads to his own bed to turn in for the night. Jaskier keeps his his incessant singing to a soft whisper so as not to wake the Witcher, but his efforts are unnecessary because Geralt is not asleep. 

Instead, the Witcher stays laying down supine, eyes closed and breathing consistent and slow. He does not make it known that he is awake, because Jaskier is muttering lyrics, and he does not want to disturb the pleasant singing of a nighttime songbird. 

Jaskier rustles around in his blankets and settles after a while, still whispering to himself. Jaskier sighs and closes his eyes, too. 

Geralt takes a deep breath and he smells the ale on Jaskier, with an undercurrent of something sweet and floral. He tries not to breathe again, because Jaskier is addicting, and the emotions Geralt feels knowing he's addicted scare him. 

Geralt holds his breath and listens.

(He knows he can't hold long.)

He listens to the soft lulling sound of whispered lyrics, of quiet art, and he allows himself to relax, allows the silence to creep over him, allows Jaskier's song to be the only thing he hears, only thing he cares to hear.

" _—Run! Love run."_

Geralt feels himself tense up again, because the words are sung clear and they refresh his memory. He tenses up again because he's reminded that he is in _love_.

Geralt inhales sharply, and the action only makes the knot in his gut worse because he inhales a sweet whiff of Jaskier's scent and his heart begins to beat. In this moment, he is nothing but alive and in love again, and he _remembers_. 

_"For all the things you’ve done."_

His heart feels full and it makes it so heavy. With every beat, it only gets heavier until Geralt can barely breathe, until he doubts he can even sit up thanks to the weight. 

He hopes Jaskier couldn't hear the pounding on his chest, and it's a strange fear because he knows Jaskier couldn't hear something so quiet if he wanted to, but Geralt fears it anyway. 

_"Run for all the things that drum."_

Maybe this was how loving felt like. Being afraid of messing up, being terrified of showing the person you love that you're not worthy of being loved.

Geralt shuts his eyes tighter, so tight he could see stars. He shuts his eyes and feels pity for Jaskier, who falls in love with anyone he meets, because if _this_ was what love felt like all the time, then Jaskier must just be really good at hiding his fear. Or he's a braver man than Geralt can ever hope to be.

_"Run for all those pages thumbed."_

The fullness in his heart weighs heavy on his brain. 

Geralt shifts in his bed and tries not to have a heart at all.

On the other bed, Jaskier seems to notice the shifting and assumes Geralt is stirring. The bard softens his singing even more until Geralt couldn't make out the words if he tried. 

After a while, Jaskier sighs.

Geralt thinks Jaskier still believes him asleep, because only then does Jaskier stop whispering his songs under his breath to turn on his side, facing the Witcher, to say, "I wonder what you're dreaming of, dear heart."

Geralt keeps his eyes shut. Jaskier lets out a breathy laugh. 

"Maybe when I sleep, we'll dream of something similar," Jaskier continues, finally letting his eyes flutter close and his breathing to slow.

"Yes," Jaskier sighs dreamily, yawning. "I'd like to pester you about that in the morning. Annoy you into telling me your dreams. Such wonderful plans I have for tomorrow, and for tonight, I'm going to pretend you think they're wonderful too." He laughs. "Because you can't say otherwise."

Geralt listens patiently for Jaskier's soft snores and he sits up, opens his eyes, slips into his boots, and walks out the door.

Wordlessly, he begins to run.

* * *

_"Love run, love run."_

The words of Jaskier's song echo in Geralt's mind as he runs and runs and keeps running, away from the only constant thing in his life. 

He will run back, he knows that, but as he breathes through his mouth and his throat begins to dry then burn, Geralt likes to pretend he won't. 

The Witcher thinks he knows he's running away from Jaskier, but he doesn't quite know _why_ , and the question of why hurts more than his legs do.

He turns to the left road when the path hits a crossroad and he continues running without a care for where he's running to, just happy that he's getting farther from where he's running from. 

_"For all the things you wished you’d done."_

It's like he's running away from his head. He's running away from everything he's known, everything he knows, and everything he will ever know when he's running away from Jaskier.

Jaskier, who is probably still asleep in their room at the Inn, who sleeps so beautifully under the moonlight and wakes so wonderfully under the sun. 

Jaskier, who he fears more than anything, because he is who he loves more than everything.

Geralt feels his mouth pull up to a snarl at the invasive thought, then feels the snarl drop.

He collapses towards the earth when the sun begins to rise in the horizon. 

_"Run for all you know that’s coming."_

The familiar sounds of a horse galloping madly penetrate Geralt's fearful thoughts.

He hopes it's not a bandit, and when he raises his head, spitting out saliva, he finds the sight he sees is the farthest thing from a bandit. 

Jaskier sits atop Roach, a determined glint in his cornflower blue eyes as he pulls on Roach's reigns, makes the horse stop next to Geralt, and drops down to the dirt next to the Witcher. 

The bard places a hand on Geralt's back, and Geralt winces at the touch. He tastes metal in his mouth and sees Jaskier's face soften as he spits again. 

"Oh, darling," the bard whispers, relieved but sad. "What have you done?"

Geralt sniffs.

"Running." His voice is raspy and disgusting compared to the richness of Jaskier's sighs and whispers. 

Jaskier leans closer, placing a warm hand on Geralt's face, just like he had done in the tavern last night. Geralt is vaguely aware of how the gesture makes his heart flutter.

"From what, dear heart?"

Geralt shakes his head. _You,_ he is tempted to say, but he's been running for a while now, and Geralt knows that it is _not_ Jaskier he's running from. So he gathers his voice and parts his lips and braces himself for the answer.

"Myself," Geralt answers truthfully. 

Jaskier lets out a breathy laugh, a smile glinting in his eyes. "But why would anyone want to run away from you?"

And it's horrifying how just ten words from the right lips can make Geralt feel so in love. It's horrifying, but it's beautiful. And Geralt would like to focus on the beauty of it. 

He breathes. "I think I'm in love with you."

_"Run to show that love’s worth running to."_

Jaskier blinks, and the same tender expression returns to his face, replacing the momentary shock. Geralt holds his breath.

He cups Geralt's face softly in his hands, sweaty and layered with dust that got disturbed when he collapsed, and he whispers, "Geralt... I'm going to kiss you."

Geralt nods, leaning ever closer, and suddenly, the metallic taste in his mouth is replaced by the taste of mint and something sweet. There are soft lips on his chapped ones, and his eyes are closed but he knows and trusts who the lips belong to. 

For once, Geralt allows the fear to disappear into something more welcome, something lovely and fragile. He feels his breathing get ragged, not because he's running, but because his breath is being stolen from his lungs by the sweet hands of the love he's stopped running from. 

Jaskier breaks the kiss softly, and Geralt has to keep himself from leaning in for another.

There's a dopey grin on Jaskier's face, and while Geralt is too tired to smile wide, he lets the joy seep into his eyes.

Jaskier leans in to press their foreheads together, eyes fluttering closed, and just at the sun rises fully, he breathes, "It's time to stop running, love."

Geralt laughs breathlessly. "Okay."

**Author's Note:**

> "love all, trust a few, do wrong to none"
> 
> -william shakespeare
> 
> hi guys ive fallen in love with like 7 girls this month and its not even been 2 weeks yet hsjxgshx anyway love is such a wonderful thing and jaskier wanted to come and play so i wrote this!!
> 
> its sweeter and more ~ t e n d e r ~ than my usual fics but i love it and sgzgs i hope u did too 👉👈
> 
> this was really just an excuse for me to write something sweet and honestly i think i did a pretty good job 😌🌼 please let me know what u thought of it jhzgs 
> 
> also like i cant stop making people fall in love with jaskier in my fics its becoming a problem hHRGZS my boy just needs a little love is all 😌😌 its what he ✨deserves✨ poor baby boy has to fall in love with a witcher who cant deal with emotions like cmon geralt confess ur love to him smh
> 
> anyway i think fics where geralt confesses first are funky because i crave and would like soft geralt confessions and anyone who doesnt is both a coward and a fool but whatevs zgsgz
> 
> thank u for reading! if ur interested i have a tumblr its @skittlesun !! ALSO pls follow my witcher sideblog @yenneferal thank u it would be appreciated shzgzg
> 
> i love u very much thank u thank u i love you bye!!!
> 
> -alyssa 


End file.
